If the Worst Was Never Yet To Come
by gnails
Summary: Five possibilities of five people who never end up experiencing Torchwood Three. AU; gen


_five possibilities of five people who never end up experiencing torchwood three._

* * *

Gwen Cooper is a police constable. What's better is that she's a sure-minded constable. She knows people really well in fact. She knows how they think, how they tick, how they react, and how they live. That's why she's quite good at what she does, and she loves it. Well, sort of.

"Slow night?" Andy asks during their patrol and hands her a Styrofoam cup of mediocre coffee from that one place that _nobody_ goes to in their spare time.

She drinks it nevertheless because the rain is never going to end, and her hair is sopping wet. The coffee's heat is welcome.

"Yeah. Rhys is wondering why the hell I'm out here anyway." Her wedding band glitters in the dark, and it reminds her of her wedding ceremony, an elegant affair without any troubles.

The street around her is still completely empty despite the recent discovery of a murder victim. Even so, it's absolutely understandable to Gwen. Who in their right mind would want to be outside in this weather? Andy, on the other hand, is unfazed. Gwen wonders if the man thrives on bad weather or maybe just boring moments.

"Well, funny thing earlier, Torchwood was around here. You missed it."

"Torchwood?"

"Yeah, that secret government agency that hunts aliens." Gwen sees flying saucers and thinks Andy has been watching _way _too much sci-fi.

"No such things as aliens," she scolds. Andy huffs petulantly like a bothered toddler, and the rain continues pouring.

"You don't think so?" He takes a big gulp of his coffee. "When I was a kid, I always thought there were monsters and aliens and all sorts of buggers hiding in the dark."

Gwen laughs. "Nothing to be afraid of here. Just that yappy dog that bit my shoe at that big blue house," she tells him because she knows people, and people are _not _monsters. "Besides, no aliens around here. It's Cardiff. _Wales_. They'll just find sheep."

Andy snorts into his cup. "That's more exciting than here. But at least there's no heavy running tonight, eh?"

Gwen reluctantly agrees. She supposes this is the time she gets to relax after then bank heist two days ago. She hates it anyway.

She likes her job, she really does, but the slow nights mock her. Because truthfully, adrenaline was one of the reasons she became a PC. Gwen knows that excitement doesn't make the whole job, and she is happy that she's doing her duty helping her fellow man. However, in the meanwhile, she's also aiming for captain because climbing up the ranks will have to substitute her need for _something to do_ than just watching a residential suburb whose only hazard is a tiny terrier. At least if she's captain, she'll be able to keep herself more than busy, whether it be paperwork or helping out on the latest homicide investigation.

Though later in the night, she catches something in the corner of her eye that doesn't seem all too human or all too real. She shrugs it off as her mind playing tricks since shadows don't hide nightmares.

* * *

There are things that Toshiko Sato does not tell her mother.

"Yes, I know mum," Toshiko reassures to the phone, "I'm staying in Cardiff for only a couple of days. I'm fine. Really!" Her mother tuts in reply about no man ever being in her life.

"I'm married to my job mum," Toshiko defends, "I like my job, it's amazing. I just don't get time to meet other people-"

Her mother interrupts about how her biological clock is ticking—she's read it in the weekly woman's column in the newspaper—and Toshiko is almost thirty-one years old.

It's the usual call Toshiko gets every week, and she takes it with a sigh and infinite patience.

But, she had to agree with her mother sometimes. She didn't have much of a social life.

Even so, Toshiko meant what she said. She would have never experienced or believed the things she's seen. Aliens, space pigs, even that Doctor figure. Sometimes, she wakes up in the morning, thinking _I'm doing something amazing._ Toshiko always thought amazing was an understatement.

She suddenly bumps into a figure amongst the crowded sidewalk.

"'Scuse me miss," the man apologizes with a brash London accent. His clean-cut suit doesn't match his voice, but she lingers on his eyes.

"I'm sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" She leans down to pick up her dropped purse and some scattered objects. The man bends down to pick up her cell phone and hands it to her.

"No, it's all right. My fault anyway." He smiles, and Toshiko thinks that he's the most handsome thing she's looked at all day. For a moment, she wonders if he's got a dry sense of humor, or perhaps a fascination with the stars like she does.

"Thanks."

Toshiko watches him walk away, blending into the crowd until she could no longer see the pewter color of his jacket. She sighs.

So, Toshiko carefully maneuvers her way through the rush of the city. And perhaps her mum was right. No, it's true. She's a little lonely.

"Toshiko!"

She spins around to see Sarah, the tech from Torchwood Three running up to her. Her eyes brighten up like the city lights at night, and Toshiko doesn't feel so lonely anymore.

"Sarah! Hi, how are you?"

"I was hoping to catch you. I actually...Well, the thing is-" The redhead stumbles over her words. "I was—uh, just. Uhm. Tosh, I…uh…would you like to grab a cup of coffee?"

A beautiful smile breaks out across Tosh's face, and her cheeks blush in pink shades when she reaches out to hold Sarah's hand. "That'd be wonderful."

The expression on Sarah's face leaves Toshiko breathless and her heart thumping.

So, the next time her mother calls, Toshiko can't help but to think that, she's doing fine.

* * *

In a certain corridor of Cardiff A and E, the hospital boasts its best surgeons on the walls. Their pictures are mounted on wooden frames, with their names embossed in metal plaques. On the top left-hand corner, there is a picture of a man with a smug smirk in a white coat. Underneath is DR. OWEN HARPER in bold, majestic font, and under that is SURGEON. Albeit in smaller font, it tells everyone who passes that hall that Dr. Owen Harper had the brains (and the balls) to go beyond the ordinary medical doctor.

But this great man also happens to be chained and collared. Presumably to a woman.

"Katie babe, you've been working too much," Owen complains to his wife of four years. They pass his picture on the wall without much thought.

"I've got another four hours," she tells him matter-of-factly and then moves to ignore him. In retaliation, Owen plucks her folder out of her hands.

"No, you don't." Katie glares at him. "All right, maybe you do. But you're coming home with me right after it, all right?"

"And what if I don't."

"You have to make dinner yourself?" Owen suggests. She laughs while he slings his arm around her shoulders. "How about a deal. You come home right after your shift, and I'll prepare you Owen Harper's grand meal, including ice cream."

"Only you love that ice cream."

"Do not!"

He likes how the skin around his wife's eyes crinkle when she smiles so beautifully. "Fine, I'll take that deal."

"Great. I'll see you tonight then."

Katie pecks him, and the look in her eyes right after remind him the thousands of reasons he fell in love with her.

Owen Harper, doctor, surgeon, married man; he never expected to survive this world for so long and so well.

But in the end, as he contemplates the many ways he'll prepare tonight's dinner, he's happy.

* * *

The baby is dressed in soft blue wool and babbles at the spinning mobile of animals just above his head. A tuft of dark hair sticks out of his head, and his bright blue eyes shine as his mouth curves into an innocent smile. Ianto leans over the white crib and reaches out his hand to touch his son's olive skin.

"Jack." Ianto smiles brilliantly at his baby. "Your name is Jack."

"Jack Jones. I like the sound of that," Lisa says as she places her head on her husband's shoulder and coos at her son. "Hello Jacky, how's my boy?"

"You're the most magnificent thing I've seen," Ianto gently says to his son. Jack stretches out his tiny arm and tries to grab one of Ianto's fingers. Lisa stands beside him, silently marveling at the smallness of the baby's frame, his hands, and his fingers.

Lisa nudges Ianto with her shoulder. "You know, I like the name Gwen for our next one," she teases. Ianto blanches mildly.

"Another one?" he cries, a shocked expression on his face.

"If love," she reassures with mirth sparkling in her eyes. "If."

Ianto laughs while his son takes a hold of his finger.

* * *

The horizon glimmers from the sun, while the sea gently lulls in the Cardiff bay. The Doctor can't take his eyes off the landscape. Rose watches with him, but she just can't see what's out there anymore. The prettiness of the shimmering line between the sky and the sea is incomprehensible to her, as if her ability to appreciate the beauty has been forcefully ripped from her mind. She doesn't know how long they've been standing there, or if they'll ever move. The guilt and misery rises up in her throat like bile, and she wants to cry.

"I'm sorry," she is finally able to say. The Doctor sighs with old age and weary eyes. He pats her shoulder and pulls her close.

"Everyone dies," he tells more to himself than to Rose. "There's nothing we could've done."

The tears finally start leaking out, and Rose clutches the Doctor's black jumper to stop herself from sobbing. She fails terribly as she begins weeping because everything feels so wrong and out of place, like nothing is ever going to be the same again. And it isn't.

"He never got buried," she chokes out. "We just _left _him there. Even if…we still could've-" The Doctor gently shushes her.

"Nothing we could've done," he repeats, and his voice cracks only slightly. "Nothing."

He holds Rose's hand when they walk back to the TARDIS.

* * *

_fin._


End file.
